


Grasp of Reality

by fireandthethud



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Dildos, Drama, F/M, Force Visions, Graphic Description, Mind Control, Mind Sex, Porn With Plot, Pre-Star Wars: A New Hope, Smut, Star Wars References, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Visions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 19:58:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5838973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireandthethud/pseuds/fireandthethud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"His voice was in her ear, warm like tea and sticky like honey:<br/>‘Treated with respect, yes… But you don’t want respect from me, do you? Who knew royalty could be so dirty minded.’"<br/>-<br/>Dea Laurea visits the Death Star for a business meeting, in order to form an allegiance between her home planet of Coruscant and the Empire. Meeting Darth Vader was not something that she planned on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grasp of Reality

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a conversation that I had over DM with a friend on Instagram (it originated because we both thought that young Anakin was really hot). This is a total one-shot and I can't believe I wrote this (it's so new to me, and kinda weird but oh well, fuck it).
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this! Constructive critisism is appreciated!

Space, although something she had known and experienced for years, still scared her at times.

Her position did not require her to go out to space for too long, as she usually had her fellow generals, ambassadors and overall leaders meet at her planet. They met in one of the many towers in the more rich area of the planet, past the slums and the past the markets – the view set high on the twenty fourth floor of the tower, so that the golden light of the sunset danced in through the windows every evening and made the sky look different shades of violet and pink in the distance.

Some would call it the Hosnian Prime of the Core Worlds.

*****

Regardless, she overcame her distaste of space and the utter emptiness of it all as she dressed herself in the morning.

The sky over Coruscant was a pale blue and the gentle light of the sun slipped into her room through her open window. The curtains blew gently in the breeze and she could smell the faint smell of the city’s smog in the air. It was unfortunate that it was slightly polluted, but the smell of the city still made her think of home; after all, Coruscant was all she had ever known.

As she sat in her plush chair, her gaze feel on her own reflection in the mirror across from her. She picked up a handful of royal blue pins from the drawer of the desk attacked to the mirror. Carefully, with nimble, thin fingers, she used the pins to secure any loose strands of hair to her high bun. After all the pins were in, she set her hands down in her lap and examined her work.

 _‘Perfect’_ she thought to herself, utterly pleased as a smile crept on her face.

Her mother had raised her to be as feminine and ladylike as the head general of Coruscant could be.

She would have been the Queen, had her brother not been born two years before her.

Even in moments like this, something as simple as her flawlessly done hair triggered a pang of slight jealousy and need for control. Control and jealousy was something could not stop herself from feeling whenever she walked past the board rooms and heard her brother’s voice addressing the issues of Coruscant.

Jonathan, leading the planet and truly being the successor their parents had always wanted. While she, although successful as fuck, knew that she could be more. Jonathan had been raised to be the way he was, calculated and calm, but also holding a fiery temper within him that he showed when plans went sour.

She on the other hand had been born with her mother’s personality; _naturally_ eloquent, analytic and calm.

Deep down, she believed she both performed and expected perfection from everything around her because she wanted to make herself appear like she was the star of the show, despite being the side character, second place in run for the throne. 

*****

As she boarded her shuttle, she asked the co-pilot where they were doing again.

She had been informed last night, yet due to her poor lack of sleep she had allowed the name of the location to slip out of her head.

“Not a planet, General Laurea, but the Death Star. You are to meet with the young Darth Vader and his Master, Darth Sidious. They have recently arisen to power, as we are all aware, and your brother believes that they could become good business partners with us.”

“My mother would not approve of us associating with the Dark Side-“

“Well, mother’s dead and I think it would be an amazing move. Coruscant will rise to power and receive the recognition that our people have always deserved.”

The young woman’s head whipped around at the sound of the voice and her love for the figure drowned out the slight jealousy.

“Jonathan!” She exclaimed, running into her brother’s arms and hugging him.

Jonathan chuckled, “Ready for your trip, Dea?”

“Of course. “

_No, not really. I’m a bit nervous, I don’t know what to expect from Sith Lords. They have killed people before._

Jonathan smirked, “We’ve killed people too, sister. _You_ have as well, don’t forget that.”

She pulled away and crossed her arms around her chest, defensive and bothered that Jonathan could read her thoughts through her eyes, “That’s different.”

“No, it is not. And anyway, it’s just a business meeting. It’s not as if you’ll see them in person much more after today or that you’ll know them on a personal level.”

*****

Aboard the Death Star, her long dress swayed with every step as she was escorted by stormtroopers to meet with Darth Vader and Darth Sidious in one of their more formal meeting rooms. The halls of the Death Star were all bright white and made everything coloured or dark stand out with a almost painful contrast. Still, she held her head high and kept her walk confident and striking as she followed the two stromtroopers behind her.

When they turned the corner, a doorway opened and inside she could see the men she would soon be discussing with.

The infamous Darth Sidious had his back towards her, his hooded gaze elsewhere, scanning the darkness and the vastness of space from the window. Meanwhile, Darth Vader had his gaze fixed on her.

He already appeared to be a most unusual man, but then again, he did not allow much of his true features to be visible so that she could really judge him. Dea found the dark figure to be unusual because his mannerisms bleed with emotions. It appeared he was still mastering how to mask how he felt, despite the fact that his whole body was already protected by a metal shell of sorts.

She remembered, years ago, hearing stories of the all-powerful Vader and how he had nearly died in a fire by a foe.

A friend, had a friend caused the injuries?

She could not remember.

But, she could remember her father telling her that the man’s whole body was damaged by burns, his legs apparently gone and his lungs were now dependant on the mask to breath.

It was vaguely horrifying, yet she soaked in all of his mannerisms.

The stormtroopers left the three of them be, exiting the large white chamber.

Dea heard the door close behind them with a soft click, as Darth Sidious turned to face her. His hood was black, like the colour of Vader’s cape, and his emotions were muddy.

They were simple to _identify_ , but they were all mixed together; pride, ambition, arrogance, control.

“What is your name, young lady? I was told we were to meet with the head general of Coruscant – is that you?”

“Yes.”

She could hear Vader’s breath fill the room, thick and heavy, loud.

The dark part of her, the part that she rarely allowed to exit from the depths of her mind, was tempted to close her eyes at the sound of his heavy breathing and let her thoughts run free.

 _No_ , she thought, her conscious snapping at her and shaking her out of her erotic thoughts like a slap to the face, _pull yourself together!_

“What is your name?” Sidious asked, but it sounded more like he was demanding an answer and not asking her a question.

“You may call me General Laurea. I am the King’s sister, and thus the Head General.”

“I see.” the older man mused, placing his hands behind his back and beginning a slow stroll around the room, he walked around with an almost predatory stance. “Why do you wish to do business with us, General Laurea?”

She felt something shift within her; it was her toes curl in her shoes and her heartbeat race.

The sensation was new to her, and it made her think of leafing through a book in the library - something done with cautious, especially if the book was new and if the person was genuinely interested. Someone was in her head, seeing her thoughts, skimming through her memories.

She envisioned a boy. He was tall, all brown curls and dark eyes. His body was lean, after years of training and his mind was brilliant, sharper than any she had ever encountered. His voice ebbed with curiosity and… arousal? She was intrigued as to who he was, how he was in her head, and if she had seen him before.

He picked up on her thoughts, and as she replied to Sidious’ questions, she was also able to communicate with the figure in her head.

Was she going mad?

No, no this was happening.

Where was he?

Was he in the Death Star somewhere?

Sidious asked about her family, about her brother and how long he had been ruling.

_‘Hello.’_

_She nodded curtly in reply._

_He tilted his head at her, ‘How old are you?’_

Her eyes followed Sidious as he strolled around the room, for she did not trust him too much and was afraid to have her back to him, “He has been ruling for five years. Our family passes down the throne to the oldest child once they reach eighteen years of age.”

_She stuck her nose high, her eyes trailing over him, over and over, ‘I am a woman.’_

_He cocked his head sidewalks, ‘Ah yes, that much I can see. But how old are you, Dea?’_

_She crossed her arms across her chest, ‘Do I know you?’_

_He smirked, his smile saying that he was enticed by her, but his eyes saying that he wanted an answer. He was used to getting what he wanted, but he always kept his anger under control… ‘_

_’I’ve learnt to keep my anger under control around ladies such as yourself. And yes, we have met. Now tell me.’_

_His words made her cheeks burn, but she bit the inside of her mouth to stop herself from exposing herself too much, ‘Twenty-one.’_

“What do you believe Coruscant has to offer to us?” ‘

_Why are smiling?’ she asked him, her voice brimming with defensiveness, ‘Is that not good enough for you? Not satisfying? I’ll have you kn-‘_

_'I never said anything. Why would you assume that you would not satisfy me?’_

_Her thoughts ran heavy and red, like wine, and her face was all crimson, ‘I didn’t mean it in the way you’re interpreting it.’_

_‘Who says I’m looking at it that way, Dea? Only you are… A Queen should be treated with respect.’_

_He took a step towards her, and as he walked, she could sense him experiencing her thoughts, freely. He had searched far enough into her memories to know that she liked her nicknamed to be those of positions of power. She loved to be in control._

_He was close enough to touch her – so he did. His gloved hand reached out and tilted her cheek upwards. She could not feel him fully, as if he were a ghost or a hologram, but she could image what he would have felt like._

_His voice was in her ear, warm like tea and sticky like honey:_

_‘Treated with respect, yes… But you don’t want respect from me,_ do you? _Who knew royalty could be so dirty minded.’_

Her eyes snapped back into reality first, and then her mind followed.

The boy was gone, out of her head as quickly as he had arrived and there was emptiness within her that she wanted to fill.

Her voice hitched in her throat and she disguised it as a cough.

Internally, she was uncomfortable with the warmth between her legs given the situation she was in.

“I-I believe that Coruscant would have workers to offer to you. We have a lot of civilians looking for jobs, and I believe they would not mind becoming stormtroopers or aiding you in general. The people do not need money as long as they are provided with basic needs here.”

“They are. Good, I am glad to hear this, General. Thank you for today. Let your brother know that we will be returning to you shortly, but know that we are indeed interested in going business with Coruscant. Especially since you mentioned your royal family sympathizes with the Dark Side.”

“Indeed we do.”

Her hazel eyes glanced from Vader, who merely looked at her and did not speak, and then to Darth Sidious who nodded to her curtly, symbolizing for her to go for she was no longer needed.

Therefore, Dea turned on her heel and left.

There was still an underlying interest about the boy who had been in her head, but she could not pinpoint where she had seen him before.

*****

Quickly, she realized that she did not know where she was.

The Death Star’s hallways all looked the same, and if there was a room, it was locked or would not open for whatever reason.

She grumbled to herself about how their sensors were probably damaged as she turned left and continued down the hall.

She should have paid more attention to where she was going when she had been led to the room by the stormtroopers, but she had not. Dea had assumed that they would come back and escort her to her vessel, yet that did not seem like the case.

Suddenly, her ears tuned in to the sound of grasps of pain and she stopped in her tracks. The longer she listened, the more she was curious as to what was going on.

The sounds were not good, not pleasurable, if anything, they were concerning – someone was being tortured nearby.

Dea’s heartbeat increased against her chest, and she ran her sweaty palms against the velvet material of her dress.

Her mind was flooded with all sorts of images of pain and violence that she shuddered.

She knew that she should turn away from the sound of torture and walk the opposite way, go back to the intersection of the halls and go right instead of left, but she was on the Death Star and she had been exposed to pain before. She was not used to it, yet she knew what to expect. And her curiosity was killing her.

Like a burn, like a spark of lightning, she felt someone in her head. It was the boy, but this time she could not visualize him, only hear him.

_He was angry, fuming, violent and shattered. Something was wrong, and his temper was both alarming and something she could not help but mock._

_‘What are you doing here!‘_

_‘So much for a controlled temper, hm?’_

He snapped and it appeared that he went to slap her, yet in the moment when he would have wanted his hand to collide against her face, she felt nothing and he was gone. He was gone, as if he was made of smoke, as if he was not real. He was out of her head, and suddenly the cries of pain were gone.

The halls went deathly quiet and it made Dea's blood pulse through her like liquid fire.

She felt the nervousness grow inside of her abdomen like a poisonous seed and spread through her like a vile weed.

She broke into a jog, scared and willing to go home. Just as she thought she was alone, one of the white doors opened and out stepped a black cloaked figure.

If she could see his eyes, they would have been glaring at her. Instead, his tall body loomed over her like a old tree and she saw her own reflection in the shiny metal of his mask. She reflected fear, and upon seeing her own face, she bit the inside of her cheek and puffed her chest out. She was a _strong woman_ ; she would not let him see her unease. No, she would not allow him to witness the unstable poles that held her together at her core.

They were both high ranked and well known after all, what did she have to fear?

Oh, well, there were always the countless stories of murder that Vader had committed. There was a rumour swirling around that he had murdered his wife.

Her heart was hammering against her chest, her lips were slightly parted and strands of hair had fallen out of her bun.

Still, she glared at him with a defiance that he had not seen in years.

It surprised him deep down, in the depths of his half-human heart. His own breath was heavy, clearly sounding in the relatively quiet hallway, and when he spoke, he had to swallow back the thickness in his tone, “What are you doing here, General?”

She licked her lips, and straightened her back out. The motion caught his eye.

She was royalty, her features not those exhibited by the commoners of Coruscant; fair skin, hazel eyes, brown hair, arched eyebrows and a mole on her left cheek - an iconic birthmark seen throughout her family.

“I may ask you the same question, Darth Vader. I heard something.”

He took a step towards her and stepped away. Although she had the nerve to talk back to him, she was smart enough to step out of his way when he came close.

“Nonsense.”

“I knew what I heard,” she spoke up, “someone was being tortured.”

 _“Oh?”_ He was testing her and as he got closer to her, she was unintentionally backing nearer to the entrance of one of the rooms in the space shuttle.

“Yes.”

“Then, _tell me_ , who do you think it could have been, General?”

Now he was mocking her, and she did not enjoy it. He was subtle about it, but the gesture stung no less. It bothered her, yet she still continued backing away from him. His presence bothered her… it confused her.

The way he had clasped his hands in front of him during the business meeting showed that he was modest; he knew that he was not the strongest person in the room. The way that he did not speak in front of her before represented that he was a private man; he did want to share anything of his with her and her opinions. The way that he… walked towards her showed that he… wanted something.

“I felt a boy earlier-“

“Felt a boy?”

“He was in my head. I spoke to him.”

Vader was silent and suddenly, she felt her back against the door and then her body stumble into an empty room as the door opened automatically.

Dea expected herself to trip and hit the ground with a most undignified thud, but that was not the case. Something stopped, and sure enough, when hazel irises looked up they saw that Vader’s hand was outstretched and he was using the Force to have her upright.

“Why are you holding me up?” Dea asked, her voice cracking slightly as she heard the door close after the cloaked man and feeling the pressure constrict slightly against her throat.

“Why not? Would you rather fall, Dea?”

He did not know her name, for she had never given it to him.

The thought made her head spin and she felt herself grow vulnerable as he pushed her against the wall.

“I never gave you my name.” She gasped out, as she felt herself press against the cold metal of the wall.

“Who was the boy you saw?” Vader pressed on.

She noticed his breath was heavier now, different than before, as if he was restraining himself.

He seemed to be very conflicted with something within him, and she could not pinpoint what it was.

“He never gave me his name.” His voice sounded desperate, “What did he look like?”

“Brown hair, dark eyes, tall-“

“What did you feel when you saw him?”

The question made her feel odd, why did Vader care what she thought of the boy?

She thought he was attractive and she would have wanted to feel his true touch against her skin… There was a pang within her, and she felt him inside her head. The pain seemed familiar.

“Get out of my head!” He was out in a second, and she knew where she had felt it before. The same pang, like lightning, like a burn, had existed when the boy was in her thoughts in the hallway.

His voice was like perfume and she noticed he was slowly closing in the gap between them, “You found him attractive… You liked the way he said he would treat you. Do you believe in broken promises, Dea?”

“N-No. I don’t.”

“Good…”

Slowly, he reached out with a gloved hand and touched her cheek, tilting it upwards so that he could trail a finger across her throat. His voice was against her skin, deep and breathy, and it made her shudder:

“You dream of power. You want control.”

She nodded.

She knew.

The boy was Vader, before he had become who he was now.

“I can give you that, Dea.” He spoke slowly, and she shut her eyes to the sound of his voice, allowing the warmth to pool between her thighs and make her head spin. “Do you want to be in power? I’ll tell you right now, you’ll have to share dominance, but you’ll get it.”

 _“Yes.”_ Her voice was quick, lustful, and suddenly he was no longer controlled.

His breathing was louder, faster, and he grabbed at her waist, pressing against her neck in a furious attempt of necking. He could not kiss her, not really, for he needed to keep his mask on. Therefore, when he noticed that he needed to find an alternative, he slipped into her open mind like the way that water ran through fingers.

In her head, he was Anakin.

He was whole; he was younger, twenty-three, not twenty-eight.

He could kiss her, touch her, enter her, truly – and so he did.

As Anakin, his lips were hungry against hers.

As Vader, she was kissing his mask, yet she could still experience the physical touch of Anakin. In her head, he solidified and materialized – he was meddling with her senses, having her believe she could actually sense Anakin against her in reality. It was so entertaining.

_Anakin held her waist as he pinned her against the wall, kissing her viciously, his tongue exploring her mouth like a new planet._

_He was fearless, swiping his tongue against her and moaning into her mouth._

_They pulled away for air and Dea gasped, “Don’t stop.”_

_Her breathing was heavy and he could feel her pulse practically ringing inside of him when he tilted her neck at a different angle so that he could suck at her soft skin._

_He dotted her pale skin with purple hickeys until she was clawing at his robes with her long nails and her legs were around his waist._

_He growled her name in her ear, making it clear that it turned him on when she moaned for him._

_“Anakin!” She pressed her hips against him, her dress shifting slightly to bunch at her thighs and he felt the moisture between her legs against him._

_“What a bad girl you’ve been.” He purred into her ear, kissing her lips swiftly and then getting down on his knees. “You’ve made such a mess.”_

_She smirked from above, “Clean it up then.”_

_She was not asking him to do so; she was demanding it to be done._

_Still, he did not oblige. He slipped his gloved hands under her dress until he felt the trim of her underwear slip under his gloves._

He was Anakin, lustful for her.

He was Vader, slipping her underwear off and looking up at her.

She snarled that she wanted his fingers in her, and he followed her orders.

Vader felt her warmth all around his gloved fingers. He felt her moisture and he heard her moans. It made his cock twitch, both in mind and in body, and his breath hitched in his throat.

_“Dea,” he moaned out. As Anakin, he could look up at her so she could see the pleasure in his eyes, “it means ‘goddess’.”_

_He was pressing, in, in, in._

_Dea could see her first orgasm approaching, as he added two fingers to the rhythm. It was getting messy, but it was getting hot as well. She could feel her heart beat increase and he could feel his whole body throbbing for her. She came on his fingers, and as Anakin, he could slip his gloved hand into his mouth and taste her. They locked eyes and it turned her on even more._

_When he stood up, the pressure increased on her throat and she gasped, “Harder!"_

_He smirked to himself, and now the dominance had switched players._

_Anakin’s fingers were trembling as he undid his trousers and pulled his undergarments down to his knees. There was no real time for stripping slowly and getting rid of all their clothing._

_They were both too eager to fuck, so who wanted to be slow about it?_

_When she caught sight of his arousal, she licked her lips and was internally intimidated._

_“You want to?” He felt the need to ask, for her eyes threw him off guard._

_“Yes.”_

_He was Anakin, his cock entering her and he could truly feel how well they fit together. She was soaking, and it felt so good against his shaft._

He was Vader, slipping into her, but the arousal was not wholly his. They had had to reconstructive some of his cock; it now worked as a dildo.

Honestly he could not stop the chuckle erupting from him when he set in on vibrate and saw her rich hazel eyes shut in pleasure. “ _Ah!_ _Ah!_ Oh my God! _Anakin!”_

She was experiencing two versions of it all: in one, there was Anakin – going in, deeper and deeper until she could take him whole and they were trembling as he lay kisses against her collarbone. In another, there was Vader. It was all so much.

“Come.” He ordered.

“I-I’m going to.”

“D-do it now. Shit!” He pressed into her, not being gentle with her, thrusting inside of her at a different angle and he ordered her to come again.

She was heavy-lidded and gazing into Vader’s helmet, her own reflection visible.

in her mind she could picture the face of Anakin and how he threw his head back, panting.

That was Vader on the inside, and truthfully, his heavy breathing and swearing was enough to make her purr like a kitten.

She shut her eyes, feeling her legs tremble and her voice crack, “Anakin!”

He came seconds after she came. As both his past and his present, he felt her body sigh against him with pleasure.

He knew that, deep down, he had done something wrong and that he still required to learn how to deal with himself...

But there was time for that, was there not?

Of course.

**Author's Note:**

> The mask scene where Anakin tells her to come was inspired by a Reylo fic that I read a while ago where they have sex in an alleyway and Kylo's all dominant. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
